The Seekers
by LynstHolin
Summary: World War II era. Abraxas Malfoy and Charlus Potter are rivals on the Quidditch pitch. What about when they're off it?


These versions of Abraxas Malfoy and Harry Potter's paternal grandfather (and Walburga Black) are from the head-canon of ffnetter Thorsmaven, for whom this fic was written.

Mild suggestiveness and swearing.

...

HOGWARTS 1941

It was the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. The rival teams flew out over the pitch and faced each other, waiting for Madam Hooch to release the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch. The stands were more crowded than usual. Being unplottable, Hogwarts was safe from German bombing raids, and Headmaster Dippet had opened the doors to refugees from the Blitz that had reduced so much of London to rubble. Quidditch games attracted much enthusiasm from the refugees; they desperately needed to be distracted from their worries. When Abraxas Malfoy and Charlus Potter moved so close to one another that they practically touched noses, the crowd whooped and hooted. "Get 'im, Brax!" someone shouted.

Abraxas huffed a little. Charlus smirked; he knew the short Slytherin hated nicknames of any sort. "You're going down, Abe!" the Gryffindor Seeker declared.

Abraxas' expression didn't change. His half-moon spectacles had an elastic strap on them to hold them on even during the most acrobatic of flight moves, and his long, thick blond hair was tied back so it wouldn't block his vision. He glared at the tall, lanky figure hovering in front of him. "We'll see."

A roar went up from the crowd. It was time to play Quidditch.

The Snitch whizzed right between the two Seekers, who'd been so busy staring each other down that neither saw it until it was too late. The crowd howled with laughter. "You see what you made me do?" Potter yelled cheerfully as he took off after the tiny golden orb. Abraxas raced after him. "You'll never catch it, Sweetcheeks!"

"_Sweetcheeks_?" Abraxas rammed an elbow into Charlus' side in retaliation. "I'll knock your scrawny arse right off your broom."

"Kiss my scrawny arse!" Charlus aimed a kick at the nose of Abraxas' broomstick, but only succeeded in sending himself into a spin. As Charlus yelped, Abraxas' left eyebrow quirked up. "Stop laughing at me, you bastard!" Charles hollered. The eyebrow quivered a little. By the time Charlus had his broom back under control, the Snitch was nowhere to be seen. "Thank a lot, Abe!"

Walburga Black, who was one of the Slytherin chasers, flew up to the two boys. "Quit exchanging beauty tips and get that Snitch, girls!" she shouted just before she gave the tail of Charlus' broom a yank, sending him into another spin. Charlus used some very colorful words, and Abraxas raised his eyebrow again. "I mean it, get to work, blondie!" Walburga smacked Abraxas on the rump before flying away. Abraxas reacted to this affront to his dignity with a grim expression and a sigh.

There was the tiniest of glints, way on the other end of the pitch, and Abraxas took off after it. Charlus sped off, too, but, wary of what Abraxas might do next, he flew in a curved path to avoid the Slytherin. The Snitch was lazily hovering, seeming to wait for the boys. They approached at right angles to one another, each too intent on his goal to notice the other boy. They met in a collision, Charlus' broom shattering. The nose snapped off of Abraxas' mount, but it was still flyable. The shorter boy gripped his broomstick hard with strong legs and threw out his hands, which were caught by Charlus. The taller boy dangled as he looked down, watching the pieces of his broom fall rain down on spectators. "Bloody hell, I just bought that broom."

Abraxas pulled, grunting. "Forget your broom. I can't hold you like this forever."

Charlus got a leg up and swung himself onto the back of the broom. He put his arms around Abraxas' waist and laid his chin on the other boy's shoulder. "This is nice. We should do this more often."

Abraxas started toward the ground. "Please stop that."

"Aw, you're no fun." Charlus withdrew his arms.

"So people keep telling me."

When they reached the ground, Madam Hooch gave them a quick examination. "You're both fine to keep playing." She handed Charlus a broom.

Charlus looked at his new mount with disgust. "An Acme Ace? You'd might as well tie one arm behind my back."

"You, too, Abraxas." Madam Hooch pointed to the ground where another Acme Ace lay.

"No, thank you, ma'am. My broom is still flyable."

"It also has a sharp point on it. The way you two play, you'll end up spitting Potter with it."

"A tempting thought," Abraxas muttered.

Charlus grinned again as he pulled his leather helmet off for a moment to scratch his scalp. "Naw. You love me."

"Potter, are you sure that you actually have hair on your head? I've seen a plant called a tumbleweed, and there is a marked resemblance." Abraxas raised his broom and climbed on.

Charlus put his helmet back on and buckled it under his chin. "Where are the three bears, Goldilocks?"

"That's enough flirting, ladies. Get back in the game," Madam Hooch ordered.

The Snitch never put in another appearance. The match went on with no winner until the sky began to darken. Madam Hooch ended it until the next day; Hogwarts was unplottable, but it still obeyed all black-out rules, just in case. Every so often, German bombers flew overhead in the night, and no one wanted to tempt fate.

...

Finding privacy at Hogwarts these days was difficult, which was stressful for a loner and introvert like Abraxas. Recently, however, he'd found the fabled Come and Go Room. He had to curb the urge to head there too hastily. A boy that barely cleared five feet moving at a trot was... undignified.

He stopped in front of a mirror to comb his hair until it flowed smoothly over his shoulders, then checked that his spectacles were unsmudged and his face spot-free. His perfectly-tailored black robes were free of wrinkles and lint, and his boots were polished. He lifted his lips away from his teeth to check for food bits, but there were none. Abraxas decided he looked good enough. He wished to be taller, of course, and he often thought his facial features were too much like those of a predatory bird, but the person that mattered most to him thought that he was beautiful. That was enough, Abraxas supposed. Though, as a boy, he should really find being thought beautiful beneath his dignity, instead of being pleased by it.

Back and forth three times in the seventh floor corridor, and the door appeared. Heart suddenly pounding, Abraxas opened it. Charlus was waiting for him with that aggravatingly endearing grin of his. His brown eyes were merry, and his black hair was as neat as it ever got, which wasn't very. He was dressed Muggle-style, in gray trousers and a white-button down shirt that was half-untucked. He was leaning against a table that held a wind-up Gramophone. Charlus turned the crank and dropped the needle. "Stardust" began to play. Abraxas' favorite song. Charlus held his arms out and Abraxas moved into them. The two boys began to dance together, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

Charlus took Abraxas' spectacles off and set them on the table. "I can't see now," Abraxas complained.

"But I want to see those gorgeous gray eyes of yours." The song ended, and the two boys kissed lightly. Charlus put his hands in Abraxas' hair. "I love this mane of yours. So soft and thick. And it always smells like cinnamon."

"That's just me. I'm naturally sweet," Abraxas said, deadpan.

Charlus sputtered with laughter. "Hardly. That's fine. Too much sugar will rot my teeth, and I like things a little tart."

"Did you just call me a little tart?"

"I keep telling people that you're funny. No one ever believes me." Charlus pulled the other boy tighter and kissed him again.

Abraxas' eyes popped open when Charlus' hand wandered down his back to his behind. He pulled away from the kiss, an unsure look on his face. "I'm still not ready for that. I'm sorry."

Charlus kissed him on the nose. "Don't be sorry. I don't want to rush you into anything before you're comfortable with it. It can be hard to resist you sometimes, though, with that sexy little build you've got. "

Abraxas winced. "_Little_?"

"Pocket-sized."

"That's _worse_."

"Perfect-sized." The corners of Abraxas' mouth lifted minutely. "Did I just make Abraxas Malfoy smile? That must be a first."

"I want to dance more."

Charlus ran a thumb down the side of Abraxas' face. "That's good, because I have a surprise for you." He went to the Gramophone, cranked it some more, and changed the record. When the needle dropped, the jolly sound of a big band playing in 4/4 time came out of the horn. "I know you love the Lindy Hop the most."

The two boys danced to that song over and over again, with Abraxas being 'the girl'. He loved being picked up and swung around by Charlus; it made him feel like he _belonged_ to the other boy. When the song wound down for the eleventh time, they were both flushed and breathing hard, skin a-glow with perspiration. Charlus moved in for another kiss, and Abraxas gripped the front of his boyfriend's shirt. The shorter boy opened his mouth wider. Charlus made a small noise of surprise as, for the first time, Abraxas allowed his tongue in his mouth. "I think I'm ready," Abraxas said when the kiss ended.

Charlus reared back in surprise, his eyes wide. "Please tell me you're not joking with me. I don't think I could take it."

"But I-I don't have any experience. At all. Just kissing you is all," Abraxas said, blushing.

"So we'll figure it out together. And I have some books in my trunk that I bought from the back room of a Muggle shop." Charlus kissed Abraxas again.

Mouths locked, the two boys fell together onto a couch. Bombers flew overhead, the halls of Hogwarts were stuffed with people, but, as far as Charlus and Abraxas were concerned, there was no one else in the world.


End file.
